


Whose Body Is It, Anyway?

by Orianne (morganya)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-07
Updated: 2004-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-02 16:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/Orianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The body is a temple. But for Greg and Colin, it's under new management.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whose Body Is It, Anyway?

It started with the statue. Drew had just come back from Egypt; his girlfriend had bought a bronze statue for some obscene amount of money, and now it was on Drew's desk in the production office. It was ugly. Two androgynous figures staring at each other, with their hands clasping each other's faces.

"They look like they're trying to pick each other's noses," Greg said, staring at it. He and Colin were the first ones to arrive for the meeting before the taping, Drew was taking a phone call somewhere, Wayne was sorting out details with his staff at the other show, and Ryan was off somewhere trying to avoid having anything to do with Hollywood.

"Well, it's not that bad," Colin said. "I mean, the workmanship's nice."

"It's a piece of shit, Col. My five-year-old nephew makes better artistic statements with his Play-Doh."

"This bit's nice," Colin said a little desperately, tapping the finger of one of the figures.

"What, this?" Greg put his hand on the statue.

Maybe it felt just like being hit by lightning. Maybe it felt like being sucked into a tornado. It could have felt like a lot of things, but neither of them knew what it was.

Greg blinked. The top of his head felt cold. Colin swallowed. He had a tie around his neck that he hadn't put on that morning.

They stared at each other. It would have been like looking in the mirror, except it wasn't.

"Fuck!" Greg said. But it wasn't his own Valley Boy who's read too many books voice, it was Colin's soft Vancouver drawl that came out. He repeated the statement. "Fuck!"

Colin ran a hand over his face. His fingers brushed against chunky glasses, high broad forehead and...hair. Thick, curly hair. He yanked it to make sure it didn't come off.

"I have hair," he said, starting a bit to hear Greg's voice instead of his own. "I have hair." He dragged his fingers through it. God, Greg used a lot of mousse. "I have _hair_."

"You've got my fucking hair!" Greg yelped. "I've got..." He brought his hands up to his head (His head? His hands? They weren't his hands, they were Colin's, but he was Colin now and Colin...didn't...) and he felt nothing. Just thin skin. "I've got nothing, you asshole!" He dashed over to the mirror across from Drew's desk and stared into it. He was Colin. Big eyes, pale skin, broad-shouldered and bald. Bald with the little hair that remained completely gray. He stared accusingly at the person behind him, who looked like he was re-enacting an Herbal Essences commercial, dragging his fingers (Goddamnit, those were _his_ fingers!) through what had been Greg's hair, twirling it, stroking the strands that Greg had spent nearly an hour styling.

"You're gonna mess it up!" Greg whined. Fuck, it wasn't half disconcerting to hear Colin's voice instead of his own. Although he could've done worse. And Colin was stuck with his voice now. That'd show the hair-mussing bastard.

"Okay," Colin said. He tugged at his forelock. His. It was all his. He was going to get to comb it and wash it and touch it every day. Hah. Let them make bald jokes now. Hah.

*****

Drew opened the door to his office and wondered if he was interrupting something. Colin was standing by his desk scowling at Greg with more ferocity than Drew had ever seen, and Greg was running his hands through his hair and moaning.

"Hey guys," Drew said cheerfully. "What's wrong, Col? Greg tormenting you again?" Both men turned and stared at him blankly. Drew blundered on cheerily, "You look like one of those Rogaine commercials. Before and after." He cackled.

"Fuck off, Drew," Colin snarled. "Like you're the greatest physical specimen Hollywood has to offer. And have I mentioned that your girlfriend has all the shopping sense of a dead marmoset? Couldn't she have bought a plastic replica of the Sphinx or the Pyramids like any other normal tourist instead of this thing?" He pointed at the statue on Drew's desk.

Drew stopped laughing. He gaped at Colin, mouth popping open and snapping shut.

Greg said, "Don't be so petty, _Colin_. Can't you take a joke, _Colin_? I mean, you hear those bald jokes every single day, _Colin_. Haven't you gotten used to it, _Colin_?"

Colin gave Greg the finger. Greg just smiled serenely at him.

"What the hell's wrong with you two?" Drew said when he stopped opening and shutting his mouth. "Are you on drugs?"

"I wish I fucking was," Colin mumbled and sat down. "Give me my cigarettes, will you, please? I need them."

"I probably have them," Greg said. "Where do you keep them?"

"My right pocket."

Greg reached into his right jacket pocket and handed a pack to Colin before sitting down. Drew opened and shut his mouth some more.

*****

Wayne was late for the meeting. He came in and found Drew looking like he'd been hit with something heavy, Colin was smoking, and Greg was sitting quietly in a chair. "Hey, guys!"

"Hey, Wayne," Greg said and smiled.

"Oh, Christ," Colin said. "Can you turn the perkiness factor down about two notches, please?"

Wayne blinked. Greg leaned over and said, "Colin's in a mood. I think it's because he's bald."

"Shut it, asshole!"

"That's okay, _Colin_ ," Greg said. "I mean, you're still more handsome than everyone else in the room and you get more sex than every single one of us. Especially me. Greg. That's my name, Greg."

Wayne sat down. Drew looked at him and said, "Now you know how I feel."

*****

Ryan hated meetings. The only way he could get through them was by thinking about carrots or cars or shoes. Especially shoes. Mmm...shoes.

He found Drew and Wayne sitting in the office opening and closing their mouths and Colin smoking disconsolately. Greg was the only one who looked happy. That was weird. Greg never looked happy.

"Right. So what are we doing?" Ryan slung himself down next to Colin and stole one of his cigarettes. Colin glared at him.

"You know, there's this funny little thing we call _asking_ , Stiles. I mean, maybe you're above it now, with your two shows and everything, but we little people have nothing better to do with our time than say please and thank you and ask for shit. You know?"

"Colin's on drugs," Wayne informed Ryan.

"If only."

Ryan blinked. It'd finally happened. After all these years, Colin had finally surprised him. It was invigorating. Might as well go with it. He took another cigarette from Colin's pack. "One for the road."

Colin looked at Greg. "How'd you put up with this bastard all those years? Wouldn't surprise me if that's why you're bald."

"Greg's not bald," Drew said faintly. "You are." He flinched when Colin looked at him. "Don't yell at me."

Ryan snatched the cigarette pack off the arm of Colin's chair. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Goddamnit!"

"Don't encourage him," Greg said. "It makes it worse."

Colin made a grab for the cigarettes. Ryan got up and held the pack over his head, chanting, "Keep away, keep away," holding out his other arm to fend Colin off.

"Dude, give 'em back!"

"Ryan, give him back his cigarettes," Greg scolded.

Colin flailed his arms, but Ryan was just too tall. His hand covered Colin's entire face.

*****

Greg started up in bed. His hands went to his head. Hair. His hair was back. Lovely, soft, thick hair. He almost wept with joy.

"Ungh," Jennifer moaned beside him. "What is it?"

"Honey," Greg said. "Honey, I dreamed I was Colin and everyone kept making fun of me and Ryan took my cigarettes and he wouldn't give them back and…"

"Shh, shh." She flung her arm over him. "It's okay, just a dream. Go back to sleep. I'm never making chile con carne again if you have nightmares like this."

*****

Colin had to pee. He stumbled out of bed without waking Debra, almost tripping over one of the dogs, and went into the bathroom. The light stung when he turned it on.

The reflection in the bathroom mirror stared back. Big eyes, pale skin, broad shoulders and no hair. No hair at all.

" _Crap_!"


End file.
